The Day He Left
by mimosamouse97
Summary: She remembers and relives their time together. It was so short, but she knows it will always be remembered by both of them.
1. Prologue

**Hello everybody! Just here to say that - obviously - I do not own Harry Potter or anything here that you recognise. All the rest, however is my own work. Hope you like it! Please leave a review if you have any suggestions or ideas for it.**

I can still remember the first time that I saw him.

Saw him in real life, I mean. The first time I ever saw him was at the World Cup. He soared through the air with an almost unbelievable, certainly inimitable natural aquiline agility that made him seem like the most graceful person above earth.

However, I digress. Going back to the first time I saw him on the ground. It had been an exciting day. The anticipation of seeing students from _other_ magical school was building rapidly throughout the day. Quiet though I tried to keep it, I was ecstatic about the possibility of interacting with students from across the world.

First to arrive were the students of Beauxbatons academy. The gigantic powder blue carriage was only a slight shock compared to the appearance of Madame Maxime, a woman so tall that even Hagrid looked vertically challenged besides her. The students too descended, dressed in their Della Robbia silks, shivering theatrically in the cold night air. I appraised them curiously. They seemed ill-prepared for the chilly night air of Hogwarts on the eve of Hallowe'en and I had never seen such a collection of icy blonde hair and pale skin as was stood before me then. They looked sceptically at the high walls of Hogwarts, drinking in the sight of the imposing stone and fortress-like proportions of our school. I got the impression they were distinctly underwhelmed.

Time stretched on as the Beauxbatons students made their way into the castle, and the night air grew ever more chilly as we waited, leaning over the ledges to try to crane the first view of the arrival of Durmstrang students. I'm not sure what we were expecting really. A train? Another carriage? Certainly not what we actually got. The smooth surface of the lake was interrupted by a small bump on the surface, causing small ripples to spread out. At first I ignored it, assuming it to be a flicker caused by the Giant Squid, but it swelled and soon an entire ship had appeared, rising out of the water like some monstrous apparition in the darkening night. They all walked up to the castle, looking hugely menacing, until they came closer and it was revealed that they wore huge, shaggy cloaks. They made an unusual sight, even more warmly dressed than the Hogwarts students in the depths of winter.

Honestly, on first view, I wasn't that impressed. Sure, he was tall, dark and brooding. But, really? Put aside the Quidditch skills, and he was just some guy who could barely speak the same language as me, and who's walk was reminiscent of a newly born fawn. At the beginning, I didn't realise that there was anything different about him. I just thought he was an ordinary student. I saw Karkaroff summon one of the students forward, and it didn't even occur to me to be sceptical of favouritism until Ron punched Harry's arm and hissed vehemently into his ear -

"Harry - it's _Krum_"


	2. Chapter 1

Just days after the dramatic arrival of our guests, the main annoyance to me of their presence in the school became clear.

I was studying for the Arithmancy test we had been set that day, trying to get through the basic concepts that we had been set to learn for this year. Strictly, Professor Vector had said we didn't need to study for the test, but I wanted to make sure that I had the grasp of all the concepts. It was an hour after dinner, and I had just finished memorising the Seven Principles of Numerology. As I packed up my books into my - admittedly heavy - bag, I heard it for the first time.

Giggling.

Not a normal, amused giggle, but the vapid, high-pitched giggle which girls seem to develop around males who they consider to be attractive. I frowned. _Not_ a sound one normally associated with the library. I twisted around, trying to catch a glimpse of the culprit. This type of laugh seemed to me to have become more frequent since the arrival of the students from the other magical schools, only four days ago. I just hoped that they would abate sometime soon. They grated on my nerves, and were a distraction when I was trying to work. But the only person I could see was clearly male, and therefore unlikely to be the one emitting such shrill noises. He was hunched and awkward, semi-hidden by one of the bookcases.

Then came the other sound I would learn to dread over the next few months. Whispering.

And not just any whispering, but the excitable, breathless whispering of someone who is very deliberately trying to attract someone's attention while appearing innocent of their actions. The sounds were coming from behind the bookshelf which my back faced. I glared into the shelves, spying a gaggle of four - no, six - girls whom I had never seen in the library before. I raised one eyebrow.

Well, whoever was skulking by the end of the bookcase was clearly the object of their attention. I decided to ignore it and hope that whoever it was would go away.

It didn't.

What was with these people? Was it that difficult to leave their stalking to outside the library. Personally, I was just surprised that Madam Pince hadn't come snapping along demanding they move yet. Why was it that when I uttered as much as a whisper I was abruptly silenced, while these - I cast another disgusted glance at them - insipid creatures could natter and giggle for half an hour, without anyone so much as clearing their throat in their direction. Well, excluding me. Slamming shut my charms book, and earning a sharp 'shh' from the shrivelled, bitter librarian, I finally retired to the Gryffindor common room for the evening.

I walked towards the end of the bookshelf, hoping to ignore the furtive figure lingering there. However, my curiosity was piqued, and, as I drew closer I looked up to see who was attracting such attention. I probably should have guessed before, but I was so taken up with a combination of the gigglers and my taxing Arithmancy homework, that the question of who would draw such notice had failed to be important.

I peered momentarily into very black eyes, before they very quickly looked away. Even if he hadn't been recognisable by the heavy Durmstrang uniform and those unintentionally piercing eyes, his clear discomfort on the ground could have belonged to no other. It was Victor Krum, the school boy star Quidditch player. Even I couldn't fail to recognise him, with Ron's somewhat ardent admiration of him. But what was he doing here? He couldn't have been browsing the books for all that time. Perhaps he was trying to hide from his perpetual followers, and assumed that the library would be a discouragement to them. Of course I couldn't blame him for that, but did it really have to be in my section of the library?

As I brushed past him, I could hear more whispering from behind the bookcase. As I threw an angry look at the girls who had kept up this constant interruption, I caught my foot on the edge of the carpeting that looked so old and ragged it had most likely been introduced by Gryffindor himself - or rather, Ravenclaw, who had after all introduced the library to the school. I tripped, and the books came cascading out of my bag.

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Today really could not get much worse. As I scrabbled around on the floor to collect all my books, I felt someone kneel down next to me and silently start handing them back to me. The giggles became angry, like the buzzing of wasps who have been invaded. Sitting back on to my ankles, I watched as he handed me the last book, then stood, picking my bag up with as much ease as if it were full of feathers. I resisted the urge to scowl at this seeming show for the watching girls, and instead reminded myself to be polite. The guy was probably only trying to help.

"Thank you," I smiled at him, waiting patiently for him to give back my bag. When he didn't, I held out my hand for it.

"You - I - uh..." he stammered, his accent making the words sound almost garbled. I raised an eyebrow. Surely his English wasn't that bad, and even so my body language should have been indicative of what I wanted. Finally, he seemed to give up on what he was attempting to say, and handed me back the bag. He walked quickly past me, the barrage of whisperers moving almost in parallel to him on the other side of the cases.

Thinking no more of the event, I walked back to the Gryffindor common room to try to mediate between Harry and Ron.


	3. Chapter 2

Over the next few days, two things became painfully, irritatingly clear.

The first was completely unconnected to my new companion in the library, and as such was, in a way a relief from the greater annoyance of that. It was that Ron was going to carry on in his utterly ridiculous belief that Harry had found away to put himself in for the Triwizard Tournament and not included Ron in the escapade, beyond all reason or logic. Of course, Ron never was the most logical of people, but when fuelled by anger and annoyance at being yet again outshone by his best friend, his lack of reason reached frankly irritating levels. He was my joint best friend - and at times I felt that my feelings for him were becoming more than just friendship, although the very thought made me blush - but at times he could be so dense!

I mean, clearly Harry had nothing to do with it. If logic couldn't tell you that, the shocked look on his face certainly would. I am not sure that I have ever seen someone so horrifically, heart-stoppingly shocked in my life. The nearest was when my parents found out I was a witch, I think, but there wasn't there the sheer terror that I could see in Harry's eyes, the clear thought: What will they all think?

It wasn't him, not at all. But neither would talk to the other, and, because at the time I wasn't good with dealing with conflict amongst my friendship group, I decided instead to retreat to the library for some periods of time when both assumed I was working with the other. My time there carried on growing, and soon I became more of a recluse even than in my first year before I had become friends with Harry and Ron.

Which, of course, was partially responsible for spawning the second, potentially even more irritating problem.

My new 'friends' from the library had become a regular - read constant - feature. Of course, I knew why they were in the library now. After my brush with the mumbling Quidditch star, Krum's little group of followers began to make much more sense. They weren't actually in the library to revise or learn, not that I hadn't surmised as much from the vapid giggling, but to follow around their 'hero', whispering and sniggering at an annoyingly high pitch.

I just didn't understand why it always seemed that they were in the same area of the library. After a few days of the uninterrupted, grating noises I had done the unthinkable and changed to a different spot in the library from my normal one, that which I had used ever since my first year of school. I thought it might abate if I moved to a different area of the library, as he had clearly decided, without asking those already in residence, that this was his area of the library. At that point a suspicion started to germinate in my brain, but I immediately dismissed it as ridiculous.

But, lo and behold, the giggles followed me like a bad smell, chasing me all over the library until eventually I went back to my original place, thankfully untaken by any new students.

By that point there was no question of the facts: for whatever unknown reason, Victor Krum's fan girls found something about me very amusing. Even though I hadn't seen him except for the occasional glimpse since that first time, I was sure that it was the same bunch of vapid girls who were following him around. And what was worse, I was sure they had grown. At first there had only been five girls from Hogwarts, but now there were a good eleven, and I was slightly impressed by their ingenuity in getting some of the Beauxbatons students to join in the cavalcade. I was just surprised they didn't have a sign-up sheet or badges. Technically, under Hogwarts rules, they did count as a 'Club or Organisation' and as such should have had legislation. But then, why would the teachers bother? As far as they could see, the girls weren't causing trouble for anyone, and their famous catalyst wasn't doing any complaining. Or appearing, as far as I could see. Maybe they had secret spying devices situated around the library that detected where and when he entered. They would certainly make good trackers, if not spies - their subtlety wasn't their greatest value exactly.

I tried to tell myself I didn't really care, but it was beginning to annoy me more than I would have liked to admit. Not that I would have been offended by anything they'd have thrown at me, but it was the constancy. Somehow I'd just have to learn to tune it out...


	4. Chapter 3

**Just here** to** say the normal, hello, hope you're happy, obviously not mine, and please review!**

And then finally, during the second to last week of term, Krum's reason for haunting my section of the library became apparent.

He had been more or less a constant presence over the previous month or so, and eventually I had grown used to him On the rare occasion where he managed to escape his fan club, he would come and sit at the table next to mine, and we had even conversed a few times. I didn't mind. He seemed sweet and kind, even if there was somewhat of a language barrier, but in his brief time in Hogwarts that had already begun to improve.

And then there was the fact that I had formed a decided crush on him.

I wanted to blush just thinking about it! It made me as bad as those giggling, stalkerish girls, though of course I would never lower myself to their level, fawning and following someone around just because they were famous. It was more to do with the kindness in those eyes which had at first seemed so impenetrable, with his hesitant discomfort when he very occasionally talked to me, and the attention he paid to me.

The only person I had ever considered even vaguely as a potential partner was Ron, and that was clearly not going to be happening anywhen in the near future. I didn't think that he'd even noticed that I was a girl, honestly, and while galling I had to follow my own advice to Ginny and just move on. The trouble was, I had moved on to liking someone who was just as, if not more, unattainable. Older, famous, good looking - I flushed lightly simply at the thought, remarkably intelligent as I had learned from our brief communication. So why on earth would he be interested in a little fourth year with a mane of bushy brown hair?

It was unbelievable, so I refused to let myself hope, forcing logic to win out over my attraction to him.

Until one day just over three weeks before Christmas.

He had once again successfully evaded his fan club - he was definitely getting better at that, I observed with a small grin to myself, and had seated himself quite close to me, but unlike other times had not attempted at conversation. Several times I had thought he was about to speak, but he always seemed to hold himself back. I frowned slightly, sure that we had been getting on better in recent days. Thinking back to the first time he had sat with me, I had to suppress a chuckle. He had sat next to me so silently that I had started when I looked up, and his only comments had been a mumbled apology and then, some minutes later, the observation of 'Charms' when I was completing one of my pieces of homework. I had confirmed his statement, and then a few minutes later again he slouched off almost as quietly as he had entered.

"Her-me-on?" I looked up, once again startled form my recollections. He seemed nervous for some reason, and I couldn't but wonder what it could be. My idea at the time was that he was feeling harassed by girls, especially in the run up to the Yule Ball, and wanted my advice on where best to hide. _Well_, I thought, _this was my place to hide from them before you turned up. Don't you think I'd be somewhere else if I could?_

"Yes?" I asked, a little impatiently perhaps, but his nervous lingering was beginning to get on my nerves.

"Vell, I, vould you, I - uh - I mean..." I absently wondered what could be taking so long to spit out. "Vould you go the Yule Ball with me?"

It took a minute to register, but suddenly I could feel myself blushing, the red heat working it's way up my neck to my face. Furious at my own reaction, I tried to hide it, unsure of what to say. I wanted to say yes, but every instinct was telling me this must be a joke. Then I looked up at his face, and saw a flash of panic and worry in those curious, wonderful eyes.

"Yes," I decided with a smile. He looked as though someone had Stunned him, as though he could believe his work. Then he appeared to begin to say something else, but was abruptly interrupted by his fan club.

I quickly packed up my bag and flashed a fleeting smile at him. Brushing past the giggling gaggle, I couldn't help but feel a hint of triumph.


	5. Chapter 4

**Hello...nope, still don't own it *sigh***

By the last day of term, I was still floating around like someone had slipped me a little too much Butterbeer. Not only was I going to the Yule Ball with someone, but he was intelligent, handsome, and a wonderful human being. Of course, the bubble did have to burst at some point, and that Friday was the day that was chosen.

The first conversation wasn't too awful, though I still felt bad for Neville. I mean, it wasn't his fault that neither myself nor Viktor had told anyone that we were going to the ball together. Just after Potions that afternoon, he somewhat nervously tapped me on the shoulder and drew me aside. And when I say somewhat, I mean he made Krum's question look like the slicker than an ice skating rink. He went bright pink, and stuttered for about five minutes before he managed to get out the question. I honestly did feel terrible for letting him down, but just as he turned to go, I caught sight of Ginny coming round the corridor from the corner of my eye. Ginny, of course, already knew who I was going with, as I could trust her to keep the secret.

"Neville!" His name rang down the corridor , and he turned around, hope filling his rounded face again. I walked over to him quickly, and spoke in a low voice.

"Try asking Ginny, I don't think she's going with anyone." He looked confused for a moment. "And I _know_ that she wants to go. She's only a third year, so she can't go if someone doesn't ask her. Please, Neville?"

He nodded fervently and set off towards her with as determined and yet terrified a face as when he had tried to prevent Harry, Ron and I leaving the Gryffindor common room in first year. Thinking that all of my problems were solved for the day, and pleased with myself for handling the whole thing so tactfully, I started to head for said common room, wondering if the boys had had any luck with their respective crushes. Suddenly I remembered that I had left my Runes textbook in the library, so went back that way, slipping a brief smile to Viktor as I passed through. I wanted to stop and talk to him, but he had been unfortunately unsuccessful in evading his fan club today, and as I didn't want to get stabbed with hairpins and lipgloss I decided to give it a miss. I noticed, though, that even for the tentative return smile he gave me, I got given the evils. If looks could kill...

Finally I went to dinner, sitting with Lavender and Parvati, as my two usual companions - who had finally made up - were, very unusually, not in evidence. After that I made my way back to the common room, in almost as good a mood as I had been this morning. That soon evaporated.

"Why weren't you two at dinner?" I greeted them, perhaps rather abruptly, but they were laughing their heads off about something and I had a good idea that it might about who Ginny was going to the Ball with as she looked rather red in the face.

"Because - oh, shut up laughing you two - because they've both been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!"

Suddenly there was a deathly silence, a look of horror spreading rapidly against both guy's faces. Ron in particular looked like he was about to start spitting lemons.

"Thanks a bunch, Ginny."

And suddenly, I felt vindicated. All that_ crap_ he was saying about girls having to be good looking, and the insults he was throwing Eloise, well, now...

"All the good looking ones taken, Ron?" I could hear the note of triumph, of victory in my voice, but wasn't sure if it filtered through to them. I carried on.

"Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone _somewhere_ who'll have you."

But the look on Ron's face as he stared at me wasn't shame or sorrow. It was realisation, and I had an uncomfortable idea of what he was about to say

"Hermione, Neville's right - you _are_ a girl..."

I could feel my blood begin to boil. So, he had finally deigned to notice, had he? He didn't seriously think that I would drop my date for him, even if he didn't yet know who it was.

"Oh, well spotted." I was sure this time, that even Ron, dense as he was, could sense the bitter edge to my voice this time.

And then he proceeded to explain. Of course, he clearly didn't think I could actually have a partner, he assumed that I had lied to Neville, that I was just trying to get out of it. He assumed that...

"She's lying." I could hear his voice as I stalked off.

* * *

><p>"Hermione?" Ginny's voice called softly into the room. It was half an hour after my argument with the boys, and I was still in the room alone.<p>

I could hear light footsteps come into the room, walk hesitantly over to my drawn bed and open the curtains. She e=sighed at the sight of the empty bed, and turned to go out of the room. At the last moment, I made a decision.

"Ginny. In here" I called. She looked around confused, so I poked my head out from the curtained window seat, and smiled weakly. "Here."

"I'm sorry my brothers such an idiot."

"Well, you know, it really isn't your fault. It's just the way he is."

"No, it isn't. Ugh, he's blinded by the Veela magic of that stupid Flem - er, Fleur!"

I looked at her mischievously, a genuine grin on my face for the first time since she'd walked in.

"Freudian slip?"

And suddenly the room was ringing with that kind of laughter where you feel like you'll never stop, and it hurts so much but it lights up your whole day.


End file.
